


The Heist Aftermath

by Jayalaw



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Trust, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23690410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jayalaw/pseuds/Jayalaw
Summary: SPOILERS for the Season 7 Halloween Heist, Halloveaster.
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 20
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

  
It was normal for Jake to be late. The 99 knew that. He had gotten better about it, however, after marrying Amy. That was why what she said surprised them.

"Jake's not coming in today," Amy said, using the same voice she did when having to tell Holt that a murder suspect had lawyered up and gotten away without confessing. "He had to go to the hospital." 

"What?" Boyle stood up. "Did he get injured? Is he sick? I'll donate my kidneys if he needs them." 

"He's sick," Amy said. "But no, he doesn't need a kidney." 

"We can donate fingers," Rosa said. "Or any limbs. I know a guy." 

"Okay, that's creepy and he doesn't need fingers." Amy walked towards her desk. 

"Which hospital is it?" Scully asked. "I can recommend twenty to thirty doctors at the Brooklyn University Center. They love writing papers about me." 

"He's at Interfaith Medical." Amy plastered a smile on her face. "He won't be ready for visitors for a while. He's sick but doesn't have a life-threatening injury."

"Jake never ready for visitors?" Holt's office door was open. "Peralta in my experience always craves attention and people." 

Amy's lips fluttered; the 99 knew that was a sign for her swallowing a swear word. That and Holt coming out of his office for something this trivial. 

"With all due respect, sir, I can't disclose that," she said. 

"Oh my God." Holt's voice dropped. "Santiago. In my office." 

Amy followed, eyes wide. She walked in, and Holt shut the door behind him. Then, reaching his desk, he pressed a button on his computer. Loud country music played. 

"Brad Paisley?" Amy asked. 

"He is quite muffling." Holy sat down. "Peralta had a breakdown, didn't he?" 

"Dammit!" Amy exclaimed. "Sorry, sir, how did you-?"

"Please sit." The captain gestured. "Word will get around in the office, but I need to know how to cover for him." 

Amy sat. 

"Jake never misses work and he would arrive even with a broken bone," Holt said. "He doesn't need surgery because you said his injury wasn't life-threatening but he is sick enough to go to the hospital. If he had an illness like mumps then he would be stir-crazy, and I know that from my experience. So the process of elimination said it was a mental health issue."

She wanted to bury her face in her hands. Holt leaned forward, as if he wanted to comfort her.

"You need to tell me everything."

# 

  
Amy wanted to say it started with little things. Jake started making copies of grocery lists, double-checking them, and insisting on going alone. He said he wanted to ensure they had a well-stocked fridge. 

It had all seemed great. Normally Jake considered a box of muffins equivalent to groceries for the week. Amy always made triple-copies of grocery lists and had an app for coupons. Things were getting weird, however, when he started locking up case files and wore the key around his neck. Sometimes Amy caught him staring at her out of the corner of his eye, and not with his usual devotion. 

Then he stopped talking to her about cases unless they were working on it together. He would ask about how she was feeling with the baby but never disclosing his thoughts on the latest game. Sometimes he'd pick up Sudoku and blackout the answers with a Sharpie. One time Amy even noticed he had bought a temporary burner phone. She was worried he had been asked to go undercover again. 

"I can't confirm or deny," he'd say.

"Jake, you're not a lawyer," Amy replied. "This is really freaking me out. You're not this organized. Please tell me you're not being forced back into the mob." 

"No, nothing like that. I just don't want to be vulnerable in time for the next heist," he'd say, in a joking tone. "After all, you did hire someone to be my therapist just when I was making progress with my life." 

That had ended the conversation for the night. Amy had tried to justify her trick as a means to an end. But she noticed how the circles grew under Jake's eyes, heard him shuffling to the couch rather than sleeping next to her. When they had sex, he was much quieter. No talking about Die Hard or playing ping pong. He would get her pillows and tea to support her morning sickness.

Then one day, Jake took a Saturday off. Normally he went into the 99 looking for a case. Amy knew he wasn't there, though; he left her a note saying he scheduled a doctor's appointment, but writing five different hospitals on various Post-Its. All were covered by their work insurance. 

Jake had actually read their health insurance plan through and through. That's when Amy realized something was wrong. Jake pretended he never got sick or needed to go to the dentist. She did a little detective work, only to find that she couldn't find Jake's phone or computer. Later, she'd find out he put them in a safety deposit box. The key was mailed to Boyle, who guarded it with his life.

By the time she figured out which hospital it was, Jake had committed himself. He said he didn't want to see his wife, the nurses reported to a stricken Amy, and he had gotten the histories of all the psych doctors to ensure none of them were actresses. Amy had to speak with the doctor, who explained Jake had developed a dysfunctional paranoia. It was likely a sign of PTSD. He was also cross-examining the doctors as they prescribed pills and talked to him. 

She spent all night in the hospital waiting room, desiring an answer. That was awful. So was having to answer questions about her husband's medical history and any potential allergies. The worst part, however, was remembering how much she had paid that actress. That money could have been spent for a better cause. 

#

  
"I'm taking as many gifts to Jake as possible." Boyle showed off the basket. "Who doesn't love blue cheese and rock crackers?" 

"Everyone," Amy said. "You need to check with the doctors to make sure he can receive all of that. Until he's not a danger to himself."

They were in the evidence room. They were working the night shift. Amy didn't want to go to her apartment alone. 

"Well, a bit of paranoia never killed anyone." Boyle gave a chuckle. "Eleanor would always threaten that if I got remarried she would stalk me and ensure I would never find happiness. But I'm still here!"

"That's not reassuring." Nevertheless, Amy stroked the bow on the gift basket. "I'll be sure to drop it off for him." 

"You know if you drop it off, Jake will give it to the orderlies and members in group."

"I'll tell him it's from you." Amy undid the bow. "Just need to take the chocolate because that I need." 

"I don't think Jake trusts you anymore," Boyle said bluntly. "He doesn't trust anyone in the 99 except for me." 

He fixed the bow in the gift basket. It crinkled under his fingertips. 

"Did you have to say that?" Amy said. 

"I'm his friend, Amy. I have to defend him. The therapist prank was not cool." 

"Do you think I don't feel guilty about this?" Amy asked. "You think I want to see my brilliant husband locked in a room where they only give him meds that wipe out his brain and one crossword at a time? He's a Sudoku expert!" 

"Jake actually is more of a Kwazy Krush guy," Boyle corrected her. "He just can't play it because they don't allow cell phones or laptops in the psych ward." 

"That's not the point." Amy took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. It's always been heist stuff. I know I went too far. But how can I get him to trust me again?" 

"Show him that you're worth trusting," Boyle said. "And wait for him to recover. Ultimately, I know you're sorry, but does he know? Can he trust his mind when it tells you that you won't betray him again?" 

#

  
Life went on at the precinct. The detectives solved cases. Perps tried to break out. Holt interviewed potential assistants and screened them for spies. 

It wasn't the same, though. Holt pulled all his strings to make sure no one outside the 99 knew about Jake's breakdown. Everyone tried to visit him, but he was curt with most of them except for Boyle. Jake's tone changed as a cop interrogating a suspect, not a man among his friends. Rosa offered to smuggle him a knife and Jake told her bluntly why that would be a bad idea. Terry brought drawings from the girls. Jake took them and asked casually if Cagney and Lacey knew that Terry had faked an explosion to win the heist. Hitchcock was banned from the hospital after he sneaked into the ladies' bathroom, and Scully got distracted ball the new doctors he could befriend.

Holt sent Kevin, stuffing him full of Nick Cage quotes. It was a peace offering. Jake talked to Kevin about Greek literature -- he even received some books from the man-- but treated Holt the way he treated tuxedos. There was formality tinged with distrust. Holt was wary as well, perhaps feeling guilt over how off-the-rails things went. 

Jake was still not talking to Amy, apart to ask how she was feeling with the baby. Amy wondered if the nausea was from morning sickness or the stress. She started seeing a counselor at the hospital, to try and process her feelings. 

He wasn't opening himself up to anyone. Even Boyle mentioned he was out of his depth. Being a best friend and former wedding organizer did not prepare him, but he tried his best. Jake was paranoid that every single action was for the next heist or deception. His doctors weren't allowed to talk therapy sessions or medications with Amy. There was no way she could advocate for him. Jake had given himself to the medical system. And they knew the 99 was partly to blame. 

Everyone was waiting. It wasn't like when he was undercover, and they only had to worry about his life. He was a few blocks away, fighting with something they couldn't see. 

Finally, their captain called a meeting. They gathered in the conference room.

"The good news is that Jake should be back to work in a week," Holt said. 

A cheer went around. Amy already knew, but the precinct had largely not been talking about it. Jake had finally talked to her when as an apology gift she smuggled in John McClane's favorite choice of alcohol. He wasn't allowed to drink with the meds, but it was the first time he had laughed during her visits. He still had to see the therapists at the hospital as a regular patient, however, and they recommended the two see a marriage counselor, whom they could verify was not an actor. Jake was still filling prescriptions for Klonopin so he could sleep. Amy knew they were addictive but she didn't want them to lie awake at night together. 

"He's taking desk work, at his request. Boyle and Jeffords will be supervising him to make sure all is well." 

"I can't wait for the guy to store food in his desk to rot," Rosa said. 

"I'm practicing for when Jake will leap into my arms," Terry said. 

"Now for the bad news; we are suspending the Halloween Heist indefinitely," Holt announced.

"WHAT?!" the detectives said.

"You heard me." Holt leaned forward. "Until further notice, we will spend Halloween the way we have before, with no competition and lots of paperwork on the busiest night of the year." 

"But it's tradition!" Rosa said. 

"You don't even know if the heist caused Jake's illness!" Amy protested. 

"Where else will we prove ourselves?" Hitchcock asked. 

"Aww, I wanted to show Jake I would always be by his side!" Boyle said. 

"I think you're finally showing sense, Sir." 

That brought all the protests to a halt. The silence in the room was deafening. Only Terry looked relieved if a little guilty. 

"Who said that?" Holt asked. 

"I'm Officer Gusman," the woman in the back said. "Been a uniformed police officer for a few years." 

"Who are you?" Rosa asked with disgust. 

"I've been working with Detective Lohank," Gusman said. "You normally don't see us because we're on the night shift."

"And you think to stop the heist is finally showing sense?" Rosa said, an edge in her voice. "Are you questioning the Captain's authority?" 

The woman went pale. Then Detective Lohank stood up. 

"Office Gusman and I completely agree," he said. "You've all gone too far with your plans and need to one-up each other." 

"We've been watching this heist go on for years," Gusman said. "The rest of us stay out of it because while you are doing your Halloween shenanigans, we are busy trying to do our jobs and be decent human beings. But you can't even make it harmless. We have to dodge your drones, keep from stepping on broken glass, and witness pickpocketing in real-time. You've stolen dogs, for crying out loud!" 

Amy went red. She had stolen Holt's dog, despite being deathly allergic. It hadn't been her proudest moment.

"One thing this precinct has taught me is that you are only as good as the people around you," Lohank added. "I've seen you all work as a team. But every time this happens, you all work to tear each other apart. And for what? To be called a 'detective slash genius'?"

He made air quotations. 

"Uh-oh, he never does that," Rosa said. "He's serious." 

"Sir, you are a great Captain, and I think you could be the greatest," Gusman said. "But your pettiness is infecting the rest of the group and drove one of our best detectives to a nervous breakdown. Yes, we know; we're not stupid." 

"It's actually PTSD manifesting," Amy said in a small voice. 

"Whatever it is, why do you feel the need to destroy each other on what's supposed to be a night of fun?" Lohan asked. "Someone's going to die for real during a heist and you'll be too concerned about winning to notice. That's not what a detective represents. We are made to serve and protect." 

"Detective-" Holt started.

"You don't check yourself into a hospital because you have a problem. Jake checked himself in because he wanted to get better. But why did he need that in the first place?"

"Okay, that will do, Detective," Terry interjected. "You've made your point. No Halloween Heist this year." 

"Dismissed," Holt said. 

The 99 stood up. Rosa kept sitting. She had won the heist three times that year, and mocked Jake for his innermost secrets. 

"Lohank, you surprised me today," she said. "Well done."

"I may not be the best detective, but I'm still a detective," Lohank said. "Jake's a good guy. Do us all a favor and treat him like that. Enjoy the prize." 

He walked off. Rosa didn't move. Amy went over to her. Rather, she waddled because her baby fat was showing.

"Jake and I are setting boundaries," she said. "We've agreed no more pranks, and I am not interfering in his mental health plans or therapists. I am not touching any of his medicines or giving him any gifts with tasers in them. And I've color-coded notes to help with reminders and showing he can trust me. I think we may actually recover."

"Sounds great," Rosa said sarcastically. "But it won't be the same." 

"It won't," Amy admitted. "But we have to try and make something out of it."

She pulled out the book of Sudoku. Jake had left it in the apartment, most of his answers blacked out. There were still a few pages he hadn't completed. 

Amy would give him the book, and let him do the last pages privately. No sabotages, no need to tell him the answers, just space. And no more pranks related to the stuff inside your head or with Tasers. She could commit to that. If Jake wanted to get better, then she had to make the effort.


	2. Breaking Traditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holt has some bad news to Jake.

Visits to the psych ward were awkward, to say the least. Jake was not allowed to have any technology, which meant that he was reading any book or magazine that came his way. His chin was always clean-shaven, which meant that he had razor privileges and the nurses didn't have him on suicide watch. Even so, a part of his eyes looked dead, like taxidermy mounted on a wall. When he talked, he was inquisitive to a fault.

Holt had to admit that he didn't know what to do. Despite being friends with several academic psychologists and having been to a therapist for his issues, he had no idea how to help Jake. All he could think about was that the 99 was missing its best detective. Kevin recommended him some books, and it was hard to read them. Some days it was harder because Cheddar seemed more demanding, wanting walks. Perhaps the dog could sense all of the tension. 

The humiliating part was that _Kevin_ was actually making headway with Jake, and giving him lectures on the Classics when going to visit him. Once, the men couldn't have been more different from their tastes and fondness of each other. It wasn't the Safe House "fiasco" as his husband called it; Peralta was actually in listening to topics he would have previously considered boring. He could identify verses from the original Greek Odyssey text. He even took notes in an untidy scrawl.

This was all disconcerting. Holt wanted back the upstart detective who would show up five minutes late, accept any random punishment and solve cases. The Jake that he knew would have been making innuendo jokes about Greek mythology. He and Kevin wouldn't be getting along like old friends.

Regardless, Holt had to deliver some bad news. Jake was starting to talk to Holt again like a normal person, and it was the best time to burst his bubble. October would be here all too soon. 

"So what is the plan for the Heist?" he asked. "Are you going to hire more actors? Recruit a twin brother? I bet you have a twin brother." 

"We're canceling this year's Halloween Heist," he said.

They were sitting at a table. Jake was fiddling with Play-Doh. The circles under his eyes were more pronounced. 

"That's fine. We can do it on Cinco De Mayo. Or Arbor Day!" Jake held up the Play-Doh. It was shaped into a screaming face. "Heck, we can do Groundhog Day." 

"We're not doing any holidays with thievery in the precinct," Holt said slowly and clearly. "There will be no heist, period. No secret passages, no drones, no body doubles." 

"Very funny, Sir," Jake said. "I'm thinking we should make Cheddar's collar the subject of the heist. Then you can plant multiple decoys and I can plant multiple decoys and somehow Terry will end up with the real one."

"No." Even if Holt had been planning a heist, he would never put his dog at the center of it. It was like talking to a toddler. "We're not doing a heist, Peralta." 

"Excuse me if I don't believe you, sir. You love the heists."

"I did," Holt said. "But I am concerned about how our precinct's behavior has landed you here. Last year's heist went too far and damaged your health. I cannot let that happen again." 

Jake stared at them. Then he smashed the Play-Doh into the table and stood up.

"You are not doing this to me," he said. The heists are all I look forward to every year! That and rewatching _Die Hard."_

"Then you need to expand your life, Peralta," Holt said. "I'm not risking your sanity over tradition."

"This isn't a sanity thing," Jake replied. "You feel sorry for me. Well, I don't need that. I've got enough of Amy and Terry giving me their pity. Charles has been great but everyone else is treating me with kid gloves."

"Peralta, my pity pales in contrast to genuine support," Holt said. "I pity the nurses more than I pity you. Please sit. You are still under my police command."

They glared at each other. Jake flattened the Play-Doh. 

"Your being here is a wake-up call," Holt said. "I've been petty, competitive, and vengeful. And that means you're no longer bothering me with your movie references every day-" 

"This is a trick, isn't it?" Jake sat back down. "Unbelievable. You're trying to get an edge on the heist by lying that it's canceled. Or, you're trying to knock me out of the competition by sending me into another breakdown."

"Do you really think I would do that?" Holt was horrified. 

"Why not, Sir? Ames has proven that you can't trust therapists at all, and you once towed my car after getting a pickpocket to take my shoes. The heists bring out the worst in all of us. You're very good at taking the class out of 'classy'." 

"Peralta, I assure you that I am quite serious." Holt could feel his hands twitching. He pressed down to calm them. 

"How can I believe that?" Jake asked. "You've lied to me before. Heck, I've walked on cut glass and thought I was going to jail for trespassing." 

"You're right," Holt admitted. "I shouldn't have made you give up your shoes for that."

It had been such a sweet victory at the time, with a bedraggled and humiliated Peralta admitting that Holt was a "detective slash genius". Now it all seemed so petty, childish, devious even. Maybe if Holt had let up on him, Jake and he would be having this conversation in the safety of Holt's office. But there was no time for regrets. Visiting hours would be ending soon. 

"There is not going to be a heist," Holt said. "Boyle will tell you. You still trust him."

"Charles is also super gullible," Jake said. "And you've all lied to him before. He once believed bird's nests were made of saliva."

"Some species are," Holt said. "They're a delicacy in China. Regardless, if you are well enough to come back to work, you can see the precinct for yourself. No one will be doing a heist and I will not authorize one. Anyone engaged in those shenanigans will find themselves disciplined and suspendd." 

"Oh, it's on." Jake grabbed the Play-Doh, which looked worse for wear. "I'm going to be at the precinct on Halloween, and I'm going to win the heist that you claim will not happen, with no one's help."

"As long as you have gotten the treatment you need," Holt said. "You need to prioritize your health." 

"I will." Jake bared his teeth. "May the best man win." 

"Fine," Holt said, feeling snappish. "May the best man realize that your health is a serious issue and I will not be toying with it again. No one else will either."

"Fine."

"Fine." Holt got up to leave. "It was good to see you, Peralta." 

"Likewise, Sir." Jake's eyes were still dull if lightened with a hint of challenge. "Don't be a stranger. I want to know exactly what you're planning."

Holt's stomach ached as he walked outside. Jake resumed sculpting. Perhaps the captain would send in Kevin. 

He would have to tell the precinct. No tricks, no heists. Just a commitment to Halloween, and to do no harm. He owed that much to Peralta, to give him a holiday of recovery.


End file.
